


Daring

by LillianLockhart



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 16:52:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7114297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LillianLockhart/pseuds/LillianLockhart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A game of truth or dare ends in a night that goes well for Hermione. And then it goes bad. Then it gets good again. Really good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daring

**Author's Note:**

> I don't normally write this pairing, but the dramione bug just bites sometimes!

"Truth or dare," Hermione Granger repeated disbelievingly with a scoff. "What are we, a bunch of fifth years?" She gazed around at all the elder female students sitting on magically transfigured cushions on the floor of the 8th year Gryffindor girls' dormitory. Girls from all houses had apparently shown up for this little slumber party. Ginny had dragged her all the way from her cozy Head Student's common room, keeping mum on what exactly was going on up here. She supposed it was wise, else Hermione never would have agreed to leave her warm, soft chair by the fireplace for something this silly. "Besides, it's late!"

"It's only seven o'clock. Come on, Hermione," Ginny pleaded from the doorway she was blocking. "You know you wouldn't have done anything like this in 5th year, either."

"That's because I was busy studying for my O.W.L.s, just like you all should have been doing."

"Don't you think people need this kind of thing once in a while?" Ginny asked exasperatedly. "Studying 24/7 isn't healthy. And with everything that's happened…" she trailed off, letting the unvoiced mention of the war hang in the air for only a moment before continuing "we deserve to have some fun."

Before Hermione could answer, an unexpected voice piped up from the circle of girls in the center of the room "Save it. I don't even know why you bothered trying. Granger doesn't know the meaning of fun. No, I'm afraid she'll always be a wet blanket."

Wet blanket? Hermione mentally reeled at Pansy Parkinson's words. The Slytherin's voice was void of any malice, but the challenging tone was clear as day. Suddenly, Hermione felt quite awkward. There she stood, dressed in her most comfortable (and most unflattering) pajamas while everyone else wore cute nighties, gowns, or shorts with tank tops. Even her hair was perfectly concealed at the top of her head in a neat bun. She noticed her arms had been crossed, so she quickly let them fall to her sides. A few beats of silence passed as everyone watched Hermione's reaction. Heaving a sigh, she made up her mind and threw herself into an empty space next to everyone else.

Pansy gave Ginny a triumphant smirk.

Said redhead scowled in return, taking her seat next to the Patil twins.

"Right," Parvati announced, summoning several small goblets and a large glass bottle of some bubbling purple liquid. "Let's get this party started!"

Hermione eyed the bottle warily and bit her lip, holding back her groan. "Dare I ask what that is?"

"Don't worry, Hermione. It's non-alcoholic."

"It's a special potion from a wizarding shop in India," Padma explained excitedly as her sister unstoppered the bottle and began pouring. "It's a little hard to explain. Basically, it gives you the courage to do things you normally wouldn't let yourself do, but doesn't remove your sense of judgment. It also has a special property that dulls negative emotions such as embarrassment or fear. We thought it would be perfect for tonight."

"Sounds amazing," Ginny said, happily taking a sip out of her goblet. "Not bad."

Hermione looked down at the goblet that had just been slid over to her. The purple liquid sloshed gently against the sides, looking relatively harmless. She picked it up gingerly and took her first sip. The drink was a little on the sweet side with a hint of cinnamon.

"Now," Pansy said finally. "Hermione, truth or dare?"

"Truth," she said without hesitation.

"There's no playing it safe in this game," she grinned impishly. "Are you a virgin?"

"Oh, of all the juvenile-" Hermione stopped talking abruptly at the knowing smirk on Pansy's face. "Oh, fine! I can't believe this. The answer is no. I'm not."

An eruption of squeals and giggling overcame many of the girls in the room, and it was all Hermione could do to keep from rolling her eyes dramatically. Strangely, though, she didn't feel embarrassed about her admission. Thankfully, no one seemed brave enough to pry about just who it had been. She didn't want to announce to the whole of Hogwarts that she'd been irresponsible with none other than Viktor Krum over the summer. They might have all just assumed it had been with Ron. While he was a good friend and a sweet guy, they hadn't exactly clicked the way they thought they would. It was a mutual agreement.

Ginny, having already known this little bit of information, only laughed. "You didn't even give the poor girl a warm-up question, Parkinson!"

Pansy winked at Hermione and held her hand in the shape of a gun, blowing on the tip of her finger saucily. "I don't take no prisoners."

Hermione's brow furrowed as she picked up on the muggle reference. This Slytherin girl was beginning to surprise her more and more.

An hour or so later, the group was plenty loosened up from a combination of the special potion and several eye-opening truths about many of Hermione's peers. For one thing, she never would have guessed that ice-cold Pansy herself would have a crush on Ronald Weasley. Nor would she have known that Hannah Abbot batted for the other team.

The spirit was quickly moving from teasing to challenging. The girls giggled relentlessly when Susan Bones dared Pansy Parkinson to write a love letter to a random 8th year boy, describing what their future wedding would be like.

Hermione was laughing along with the rest of them when the Slytherin girl suddenly turned on her after owling off the letter. "Hermione Granger, truth or dare?"

"Dare!" she smirked.

Pansy grinned. "The head boy should be getting back from Quidditch practice soon. Sneak into his room before he gets back and steal his favorite shirt and tie." Here, her grin grew wolfish as she added "Your dare is to give him the shock of his life by using your best seductive techniques while wearing nothing but his shirt and tie. Keep this up for ten full minutes."

An outpouring of sniggers and a chorus of "Oooooh" broke out while Hermione's mouth hung wide open. She nearly choked. "What?"

Ginny tried to stifle her laughter with her hand, and she looked at Hermione warily. "You don't really have to do it, you know."

Padma pouted, "Yes, she does, or it would break the spirit of the game!"

Ginny was about to argue, but Hermione interrupted with "It's alright, Gin. I'm going to do it."

"What?" Ginny gaped at her friend.

"I want to prove that I'm not a complete stick-in-the-mud! Besides, it wouldn't be fair."

Pansy smiled giddily, "That's the spirit! You have to leave now, though," she said, looking down at a wizarding watch on her wrist. "You've got maybe half an hour."

"Wait, how do we know if she really does it?" Padma complained.

"Oh, we'll definitely know," Pansy said, sharing looks with the other Slytherin girls. "Trust me."

:The day before:

Draco Malfoy sat at a table in the library, a scroll spread out in front of him with an open Transfiguration book nearby. His quill poised to write the next line of his essay, he suddenly looked up when the sound of whispering caught his ears. In through the doors walked Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley, talking to each other in hushed tones. They seemed to be having an interesting conversation, as Ginny was staring at the brunette, eyes wide as saucers. Hermione was biting her lip nervously, a blush spreading across her cheeks. It was positively adorable. His gaze followed as they walked to another part of the library, out of sight.

"Ahem."

Draco jumped at the sound and whirled around in his seat to see Pansy had crept into the seat next to him. She had her elbow braced on the table, her chin resting on her hand. She was leaned in, staring at him closely. "How long have you been sitting there?" He asked, frowning.

"Long enough," she said with a raised eyebrow. "As your best friend, I demand you tell me what's going on with you and Granger."

He gaped at her, his mouth falling open just slightly.

"Don't look so surprised!" she whispered fiercely. "You were being so obvious with all the gawking and drooling you've been doing over her lately."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Draco muttered defensively. He followed her pointing motion to his parchment and frowned at the large spots of ink that had been dripping from his still-raised quill for the past minute. He quickly returned the utensil to the ink pot and turned back to Pansy with a scowl. "I wasn't drooling, as you so eloquently put it. There's nothing going on between Granger and me."

"But you want there to be." Pansy smirked at his annoyed expression. "I've known you almost our entire lives, Draco. And I've noticed the way you look at her." Her expression softened a little bit. She took a quick glance around to make sure no one was listening to them and whispered, "How?"

Draco sighed, threading his fingers through his hair. After a few long moments, he answered "I don't know, Panse. It just sort of happened. We share a common room, you know. I get to see her when no one else does. And I just started noticing little things about her, like the way she pulls these expressions when she reads. You could know what's going on simply by looking at her face. She's so witty, too. She always seems to get the upper hand on me when we argue. It's annoying. On top of it all, she's really good-looking. It's not like she's a super model or anything, but you can tell she's got curves in all the right places when she's not wearing her school robes. I don't know why I've never noticed it until now. And I like watching her eyes. It's like electricity going straight through you when she pins you with a stare. I can tell she doesn't have much confidence in her appearance, but she doesn't know that every time we have to do official Head Student stuff alone together, I have to be careful not to stare at her or say something stupid. Or worse-" he broke off, shaking his head at himself. "I'm definitely going crazy." He took a glance over at Pansy, who had a large smile plastered on her face.

"Awwww," she cooed and then her expression turned sour, and she puffed out her cheeks. Leaning over the other end of her chair, she pretended to vomit all over the library floor.

Draco smirked and shook his head pitifully. "Why do I bother?"

Pansy sat back up. "Don't get me wrong, I think Granger's got the goods, too."

The blond rolled his eyes at her vocabulary.

"But does she even have any idea you like her this much? Why don't you tell her?"

"I couldn't do that!" Draco protested loudly, earning a shush from Madame Pince. Whispering again, he said "She's probably still dating that Weasel guy. Besides, have you met Granger? She'd never even consider it."

"How do you know?" Pansy said, spreading her arms out in a shrug. "She could surprise you."

"Well, I'd like to see the day Granger does something out of character."

Later that day, Draco had gone back to his dormitory. He walked over to his dresser, opened the top drawer, and fished around through his neatly folded socks. After a few seconds, he pulled out a leather-bound book with his name marked across the front in gold lettering. As he retrieved the book, a pair of socks fell out of the drawer and onto the floor with a soft thump. He looked down to see the pair of purple dragon socks his grandmother had given him as an 18th birthday gift. The dragons silently roared as they flew about the ankles and breathed fire down to the toes. He stooped to pick them up, but a flash of orange shot across his path, and with a muffled meow, raced out of the bedroom, socks clutched firmly in its mouth.

"Hey! You ruddy animal; get back here with that!" He threw the book to the bed and bolted out of his room. He caught sight of the bushy tail escaping through Hermione's half-open door and, without thinking, plunged ahead. "Where did you go?" he murmured, looking around the Head Girl's bedroom. Unsurprisingly, it was mostly red and gold themed with everything neatly in its place. Before he could comment, the sound of humming materialized in the common room just outside of the room. He panicked, jerking left and right in search of a hiding spot. Spotting an open closet to his right, he dived inside as quietly as he could and was able to slide the door shut just before Hermione Granger pranced into the room, bouncing on her feet and humming one of those ridiculous Christmas tunes. He peered at her through the slats in the closet door, cursing her and her ruddy cat with a scowl.

Once she'd thrown her rucksack onto the bed, she shrugged off her robe and draped it over a nearby chair. She then began to simultaneously kick off her shoes and pull her sweater vest up over her head. The resulting image made Draco place a hand over his mouth and look away to keep from laughing out loud. She looked like a headless chicken. After a deep breath, Draco turned to look back and faltered for a moment. She was already unbuttoning her crisp, white oxford shirt, revealing a sliver of smooth-looking skin down the middle of her torso, except for a peek of bright red. Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise. Red lace? He mused, thoroughly impressed.

'MEOW," said Hermione's sock-stealing cat from somewhere out of sight. Draco scowled, but it vanished when he heard a light scratching on the outside of the closet door. No, he pleaded mentally, locking his eyes onto Hermione for her reaction.

The Head Girl was looking down at where the cat must have been with a puzzled expression. "Crookshanks? What's wrong?" She headed in his direction, and the Slytherin blanched. He felt around for a hiding place, but, finding none, opted to back up into the clothing and hope to blend in. It was a good idea in theory if Draco hadn't stepped on a silk scarf on the floor of the closet. He was immediately unbalanced the moment Hermione threw open the door. He barreled into her, and they both went tumbling to the floor.

When everything was still again, Draco found himself lying flat on his back and out of breath with an angry Head Girl straddling his hips and holding his arms to the floor. Her shoulders were tensed as if she were using all her strength on trying to keep him pinned. He would have laughed at her, but she was currently staring down at him in an angry 'explain, now' sort of way.

"Err," he panted. "Cook . . . hanks . . . took my socks. I panicked…" he trailed off, slowly, noticing that her shirt was hanging wide open. The red lacy pop of color was screaming at him from the edges of his vision. He tried to keep his eyes on her face, but when she swallowed, his gaze dropped to her neck. Traitorously, his eyes roved lower on their own. His mouth was very dry.

"Ahem," she cleared her throat, causing his gaze to snap back up to her piercing gaze.

"Sorry," he smirked, not feeling very sorry at all.

She scoffed and straightened up quickly, releasing his hands to wrap the shirt tightly around her torso. "Get out!" she demanded, pointing to the door.

He only chuckled. "You'll have to get off me first, Granger."

She looked down, squeaked, and then jumped off of him. A dark blush was staining her cheeks. "Go, go!"

"Alright, alright," He said, raising his hands in surrender as he left the room.

Finding his socks on the floor, she scooped them up and threw them at the back of Malfoy's head before slamming the door shut and leaning against it. She threaded her fingers through her thick hair and fanned her face to relieve some of the heat.

He is so hot.

I mean, IT is hot. It's hot in here. Wow.

Hermione thudded her head against the wooden door miserably.

Just after dinner, Hermione decided to take a quick shower before settling down for some reading by the fire.

As she stepped into the Head's shared washroom, she looked around. It was vacant, but a warm mist still hung in the air. The mirrors were fogged over from the steam. She walked up to the closest sink and used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe a circle large enough to see her face through. She grabbed her pink toothbrush from the porcelain holder and used her wand to produce a small stream of toothpaste. She had just placed the brush into her mouth when the door at the other end of the room opened up to reveal Draco, his bath towel still wrapped around his waist and a green toothbrush handle sticking out of his mouth. Her eyes followed him in surprise, and she noticed that he was more muscular than she'd realized. Not the bulky kind of muscle, though she thought absently, brushing her canines in small circles. Like Viktor. Malfoy's actually more . . . lean and cat-like.

A chuckle broke her from her reverie, and she immediately blushed at the look of smugness on the blonde's face. "Want to take a picture?" he asked sarcastically before leaning over the sink to rinse.

Smug bastard.

It may have been because she'd inhaled too much water vapor, but she didn't mind that she'd just glanced at his bum as he bent over the sink. After rinsing her own mouth quickly, she put on a grimace and said, "You wish, Malfoy. I was merely shocked to learn that Slytherins even know what a toothbrush is."

To her surprise, he chuckled again as he turned to face her. "Half of us probably don't."

She raised one eyebrow at him. "You just insulted your own house."

He raised his shoulder impassively. "Is there some unspoken rule that says I can't?"

"Well, no," she admitted, tapping her brush on the edge of the sink and putting it away in its pristine container, "but what about house pride?"

"What about it?"

She stood and watched him lean back over the sink. He cupped his hands underneath the stream and splashed it over his face a few times. He let the water drip off the contours of his face for a few moments before turning to grab a hand towel. A single stream kept going down his torso, running in a rivulet along his abdomen and disappearing beneath the towel around his waist. She stared.

Draco dried his face thoroughly and peeked at her face. She was doing that thing again where she bit her lip and blushed. He caught her eyes trailing down his body and stopped somewhere that was beginning to stir. He panicked again, tossing the hand towel to the side and bolting out of the bathroom.

Back to present

Hermione rushed back to Heads' common room by herself, feeling butterflies bursting to life in her stomach. She'd never done anything quite this daring. Suddenly, taking on Voldemort seemed a lot easier in comparison. Blocking out these thoughts so as not to put herself off her mission, she shifted to thoughts of the Head Boy himself.

Draco Malfoy had surprised her quite a lot this year. He always was stupidly attractive, she thought. For a Slytherin, that is. He was still pretty insufferable with his irritating attitude, but the name-calling had stopped for the most part. She certainly hadn't heard the word "mudblood" in a long time. He kept to himself mostly. When they were needed to work together for Head duties, he seemed to be always on guard. Presumably, he was trying to keep himself from saying anything horrible to her. For that, she was very grateful. But now, Hermione was about to test all boundaries between them.

Quickly muttering the password, she burst through the door and snuck up to the Head Boy's room. "Alohamora,"she whispered to the door's lock, whipping out her wand from her sock. She shook her head when the door simply creaked open without any more resistance. Her own door had several protection charms in place. He was far too trusting of her "Gryffindor morals."

She silently padded over to his standing armoire, opening the doors slowly. Shifting through one outrageously expensive-looking shirt to another, she frowned when she found nothing that he seemed to wear most often. Turning around and scanning the room, her eyes landed on a silk oxford shirt draped over a chair. That particular one she'd seen him wear many times. It was white with green thread creating intricate designs along the collar and wrist cuffs. Right on top of it was draped the green and silver tie. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the articles of clothing. Just before she was about to leave the room, she noticed a small book laying on his neatly made bed. His name was written on the front in fancy lettering. Ah ha!

Draco Malfoy stepped out of the shower room, now dressed in a white shirt and black trousers. With his Quidditch gear locked safely in his assigned cupboard, he cast a quick driovero on his wet hair before heading out towards his common room.

Quick footsteps sounded behind him and he turned to see Blaise Zabini catching up to him, a towel draped around his neck. "Hey, do you know where Pansy went? All the girls in our year have disappeared."

Draco cringed at the mention of Pansy, remembering the interrogation in the library the day before. "She said the girls were having some party in Gryffindor."

"Granger going to be there, or is she staying home with you?" he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Draco paled. "You know about me and Granger?"

Blaise's eyebrows shot up. "Well, Now I do."

"Bloody hell."

"I suspected it, mate, what with all the far-off looks in her direction and the fact that you share a common room." He shrugged. "I didn't know it was serious."

"It's not," Draco protested as they turned the corner to his corridor. "It's just – I don't know what it is."

"I see. Well, can't say I disapprove." He added a suggestive growl for effect.

Draco glared.

"Easy, mate," Blaise laughed. "I wouldn't try to steal your girl."

"She not my-"

"Later!" the brunette called over his shoulder, jogging back to the Slytehrin Pit.

Shaking his head, Draco muttered the password and walked in through the portrait hole. The common room was quiet, the fireplace casting a warm glow. He removed his shoes by the door, and began walking towards his room. His eyes roved around the eerily quiet common room once more and something by the fire froze him in his tracks. There, on the coffee table, was the book with his name written across the cover.

My journal.

He remembered he'd left it on his bed after Hermione's cat had run off with his socks. What was it doing out here?

He walked over to it and picked it up, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"Draco," a female voice purred from his left.

He nearly jumped out of his skin, jerking around to see Hermione Granger sitting on the couch. Had she been there the whole time?!

And then he saw what she was wearing, and his jaw just about hit the floor. It was nothing but a shirt – one of his shirts – that looked to be a few sizes too large on her. His house tie was hanging loosely around her neck. She sat casually, not looking embarrassed in the slightest. Her wild hair was down, framing her face, and her legs were crossed. The material of the shirt was pushed up, revealing more of her long, shapely legs than he had ever seen.

He swallowed thickly after a few long moments. "Is that my shirt," he stated bluntly.

"Mm-hmm," she hummed, uncrossing her legs and parting them just a bit to show off the glaring initials of "D.M." sewn on the bottom hem.

It took him a few moments to be able to speak. "Oh," he said, involuntarily whispering. Remembering the book in his hand and connecting the scene to the crime, asked "Did you- err. D-did you read this?"

She stood up and began to walk closer to him, her eyes seeming to burn into him. "I might have seen a page or two."

He automatically took a step back as she closed in. "Oh."

"Yeah. Oh." She repeated with a smile, noticing he had run out of room to keep backing up. Placing a hand on his broad chest, she lightly pushed and plopped him down into the other couch he had backed up to.

His mind was racing. Did that mean she knew? Had she read any of his inner ramblings – about her? There was no other explanation. She knew. Why else was she doing this, dressed in one of his favorite shirts and looking impossibly irresistible – just for him? He looked up into her eyes, "Why-"

But just then, she lowered herself onto his lap, facing him, with both knees resting on the couch on either side of him. She smirked as his mouth snapped closed.

He shivered imperceptibly and noticed the shirt she was wearing was unbuttoned on the top - just enough to reveal that she wasn't wearing anything underneath it. Sweet Circe, she looked better in that shirt than he ever did. And that was saying something.

She bent her head down to whisper in his ear "Don't worry about it, Draco," she said, drawing out his name. She placed her hands on both of his shoulders, and he shivered again, but she felt it this time. Emboldened further, she lightly touched her lips to his ear, giving feathery touches along the edges of the soft flesh there.

"Granger," he mumbled, moving his hands to grasp on her upper arms. "I-"

Suddenly, she brought his earlobe into her mouth and bit down softly, quieting him. "Call me Hermione," she insisted evenly.

"What?"

"Call. Me. Hermione." She repeated slowly, pulling back to look him in the eye. "I think we're quite past surnames right now."

Draco looked up into her eyes. "Okay. Hermione," he said, his voice sounding very rough. He felt her shudder, and then she returned to his ear with determination.

She pulled his earlobe back into her mouth and sucked, eliciting a gasp out of him that made her grin. She moved lower, trailing soft kisses along her way until she found a certain spot behind his ear that made him let out a moan. She paused for a moment, seeming to need to collect herself.

He was finally getting over the shock; his hands started drifting down to hold her sides firmly. He rubbed his thumbs over her skin through the silken shirt. Feeling adventurous, he trailed his hands down past the shirt to her exposed thighs, massaging gently. Her eyes were closed now, and she rested her head on his shoulder, giving a shaky sigh.

Experimentally, he slid his hand back up, going underneath the shirt. His fingers brushed over her side and she squirmed, apparently ticklish. The resulting movement caused her pelvis to settle further onto his lap, and she gasped upon feeling his hardness pressed up against her uncovered mound.

A little bit of the shy Hermione was back. She bit her lip and stared at him.

Unable to resist, he wrapped his hand around the Slytherin tie and pulled her forward slowly until their noses were an inch apart. Throwing caution to the wind, he closed the distance between them and captured her lips in a searing kiss.

She melted into him, moving her mouth in time with his.

Her lips were soft and perfect, just like the girl herself was. He slanted his mouth against hers and brought his hands up to either side of her face, caressing her jaw line. This was unlike any kiss he'd ever shared with anyone. It was hot and sweet, and he could feel electricity firing across his skull, drowning all of his other senses and getting him lost in everything that was-

"Hermione," he groaned longingly.

An alarm sounded and Hermione tore away from him, jumping to her feet.

Draco blinked, looking around. The sound was coming from Hermione's wand, which was lying on the table. A glowing timer flashing "00:10:00" appeared above it. Hermione scooped up the wand and swished it, erasing the glowing numbers.

"What was that for?" Draco wondered.

"Um," she began, trying to regain her composure. She looked like she was trying to make up her mind about something, before she finally said "That was the time in which I had to complete my dare."

In his foggy state, the Head Boy had to take several moments to process her words. "A dare?"

"Yes," she said thickly. "It was a dare."

He stared down at his empty lap, beginning to feel everything sink in. "Oh."

"I'm sorry, Dr- err, Malfoy. I didn't expect it to be so . . . well, like that."

He looked up at her and noticed her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. Why was she upset? He stood up and momentarily considered going up to his room without another word, but thought better of it. Looking at the journal lying atop the table, he frowned. She knew how he felt, and then she had proceeded to tease the living hell out of him. "That was cruel, Hermione," he said softly.

She furrowed her brow in confusion for a moment, and then just nodded. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

Draco felt his heart squeeze painfully. Heaving a sigh, he picked up his journal and turned away.

"I didn't actually read it."

He turned back around sharply. "What?"

"Your book, I mean. I'd said I might have seen a few pages, but I didn't even open it. It was just here to catch you off guard. Sorry. Again."

He stared at her intently. "You didn't read it? "

"No."

"So you didn't know how I felt . . ." he trailed off.

"How you felt about what?"

"You," he finished resolutely.

"How-" Hermione cleared her throat. "How do you feel about me?"

He regarded her for a moment, and then laughed bitterly. Gesturing to the couch they had just been on, he said "I don't know how much more obvious it can get. Pansy and Blaise found out on their own, so Merlin knows who else has noticed. I might as well come out with it now. I'm not sure what to call it; I just know that I like you. I like you a lot. I just know that those were the best 10 minutes of my entire life. And it turns out they were just a prank."

She stood there silently, eyes cast down. "I'm sor-"

"Yeah, I'm sure you are," he bit. "Go on – go back and tell all your friends you made a complete fool out of the great Draco Malfoy."

"Stop being a git," she huffed, walking up to him. She poked him in the chest with her finger as she spoke. "I really am sorry! Pansy is the one that dared me to do it, by the way. I didn't know how you felt about me. I didn't know how it would go. And I certainly didn't think it would be that- that- incredible!"

Draco grabbed her hand to protect his chest from further pokes. He considered this new information for a moment. "Incredible?" he smirked.

She smiled despite her annoyed puff of breath. "Yes, incredible! I've never felt that way before." She shook her head quickly. "Um, anyway, it's just-"

"What way?" he pressed, watching her expression closely.

She looked up at him nervously. "Come on, do I really have to explain it?"

"Yes!" he insisted. "I want to know!"

She sighed. "It felt unreal. Like I was flying and you were the only thing that could keep me from falling. I know that's silly. I mean, I've never even been on a broom before, so how could I know what it's even like to fly? But then you kissed me, and I'm pretty sure I saw stars."

He listened patiently, feeling his pride swell. Leaning in close, he bravely whispered "How about a second voyage?"

She broke into an involuntary grin at his words, hitting him playfully on the shoulder.

"I wasn't kidding," he said, quickly scooping her up bridal style. He ignored her surprised squeaking and carried her to his bedroom. He lowered her onto his bed and stared at the way her chocolate brown curls spread out on his white pillow. He liked the way she looked, lying on his bed and wearing his favorite shirt. He grinned.

"What?" she questioned, looking up at him curiously.

He shook his head, and settled for "You're beautiful."

She blushed adorably and reached up, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him down on top of her. She placed one hand on either side of his face and pulled him into a kiss, soft and slow.

After a few moments, the kiss grew feverish again. Hermione lifted Draco's shirt up over his head, and he moved to allow it. She then ran her hands along his chest, reveling in the strong muscles she could feel underneath the skin. He shuddered, and likewise reached up to splay his hand over her smooth abdomen. When he tentatively moved to the buttons of her shirt, she stopped him.

"Wait," she said, panting. "Let me."

He moved to let her climb off the bed, and watched.

She stood in front of him in the dim lighting of his room – the only light being the moonlight coming in through the window. It was bright enough to wash her in moonlight. She looked simply angelic. Reaching for the top button, she caught his eye in an intense stare. Button by button, she unfastened the shirt. Then, she boldly shrugged off the shirt, and let it fall to the floor. The tie still hung from her neck, falling neatly in between her breasts.

Draco took a few moments to stare openly at the sight before him as she stood there, completely unashamed. He hooked his hands around her hips and pulled her forward. He placed a feather light kiss on her abdomen. He trailed the kisses upwards, agonizingly slow. One after one, he stopped just underneath her right breast. He chanced a glance upwards and saw her with her eyes closed, biting her lip tightly. He grinned, and quickly took the pink bud into his mouth.

She gasped audibly, pushing her chest forward instinctively. He smirked around it, making circles around the warm tip with his tongue. Her breath was coming out shorter and faster, and her mewls increased in volume, each one sending a shockwave down to his groin. When he grazed his teeth lightly across the surface, Hermione fisted his hair in her hands, groaning low.

Draco chuckled and grabbed her by the waist, dragging her back onto the bed. She looked up at him with hooded eyes, biting her knuckle as she contemplated something.

She then pushed herself up, reaching for the buttons of his trousers. Understanding, he looked at her seriously - a question.

She nodded.

He resolved his shaking nerves and stood up off the bed. Before he could do anything, she scooted forward to the edge of the bed and reached for him. With nimble fingers, she quickly unfastened his belt and pushed his trousers past his hips, followed by his black, silk boxers. He stepped out of them gracefully.

She stared at him, unconsciously licking her lips and letting her eyes go south. The only other naked male body he had seen was Viktor's – and she was surprised to note that apparently a larger body did not mean a larger package. Tentatively leaning forward, she placed her mouth around the tip of the fully erect appendage, using her tongue to drag from top to bottom down the middle. This earned her a hiss and some panting from Draco, who instinctively grasped her hair in his fists.

She did it twice more before Draco pulled her head back gently, releasing his member from her mouth with a pop.

"Merlin," Draco muttered. "I'm not Superman, Granger."

She smirked. "Could have fooled me. What is it with you Slytherins and your muggle references?" Before he could answer, she pulled his hands away from her hair and dragged him backwards onto the bed, on top of her.

He hovered over her, hands on either side of her face. He stooped down to kiss her while getting himself into position at her entrance. Hermione grasped onto his arm, momentarily frightened.

He stopped, placing a kiss on her hand, and then another on her lips. "Are you a virgin?"

Hermione shook her head, kissing him back.

He seemed relieved, and continued his ministrations by bringing one hand down south. Surprisingly quickly, he found the particular spot he was looking for and smiled as Hermione jumped at the sudden rush of pleasure. His eyes darkened a fraction. He rubbed the tiny nub again and Hermione let out a groan, encouraging him to do it again and again. After a few moments of this, he pushed himself into her gently, and she grabbed onto his arms – this time without fear.

She looked up into his darkened eyes as he pulled out and pushed in, over and over again, until sweat was starting to pop up on his brow. Soon, she had to close her eyes as the pleasure was washing over her in intense waves, making it impossible to think of anything else but the feelings Draco Malfoy was giving her. As sexy as his moans sounded to her, their vocalizations were starting to melt together until she didn't know what was what.

With a shudder, Hermione's nerves seemed to explode and she did see stars. There was a scream, and she was pretty sure it was hers. A few short seconds later, Draco gave his own guttural sound and collapsed on top of her.

Her arms reached up to wrap around his head, her fingers threading through his hair absent-mindedly. One hand ran down to his shoulders, massaging them tenderly, as if they did this every day.

Draco sighed, lifting himself up enough to plant a soft kiss on her lips. And then on her chin. Her cheeks. Her forehead. Her nose.

She smiled.

The Next Day

"So!" Pansy piped up, sliding into the seat beside Draco at the Slytherin dining table. "Have a good night, did you?"

He paused mid-bite, bits of egg hanging from his fork. He glared at her. "I know you're the culprit, Pansy."

She held up her hands, looking pained. "Whatever are you talking about?"

He jabbed his fork in her direction. "You sent Hermione Granger to torture me."

"Oh, that. Well, I was just being a good friend. You should be thanking me! I'm sure it was hardly torture."

"It was cruel of you," he accused.

"So it wasn't such a good night, I'd assume."

"No, it was not, and you are not a 'good' friend," he sniffed.

Pansy looked stricken.

Unable to hold up the guise any longer, he smirked. "The night was incredible."

Pansy feigned disgust. "Blergh."

Draco laughed and nudged her shoulder roughly. "And you're the best friend I've ever had."

She placed a hand to her heart, giving a cheesy smile.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," he said, noticing someone exiting the Great Hall across the room. "I've got a date with my girlfriend."

As he left the table to go after Hermione, Pansy smiled. "I'm not so bad at this matchmaking thing."

-End-


End file.
